Saturday
Sunday, Mar 16 2008

I met up with Bruno at Domilise’s for a po-boy and a beer before the Irish Channel St. Patrick’s Day Parade. The place was packed, which is not unusual on a Saturday, but a large minority of the crowd was wearing kilts. I had an oyster

po-boy, fully dressed — meaning they put everything on it, particularly if mayonnaise is a primary ingredient. I got a “small” one this year, meaning about 2/3s of a large sub roll. Bruno went for the whole enchilada.

Went went up and parked above St. Charles for the parade. The day was beautiful, breezy in the low low 80s. We walked up ot Jackson where the parade turns onto St. Charles. During breaks in the parade we slowly moved up St. Charles to where our cars were parked. Between the beads and cabbages, one sight was especially memorable. At one point we stopped next to couple of comely women, probably in the 30s. From their demeanor and dress, I perhaps unfairly assumed that they were involved in one of the entertainment businesses for which New Orleans is famous. Regardless, they were a veritable magnet for scores of drunken Irishmen marching in the parade; handing out beads and flowers to women who would surrender to a kiss. When they spotted these two, they would come across the street. It created a traffic jam. Passionate delays ensued.

I gave cabbages to those collecting food for shelters and got selective with the beads I kept. Bruno and I parted ways and I began the trek out to Waveland. I arrived just after dark, but the extent of devastation out here was very clear, even in the dark. Daylight confirms it. Happily all three groups from the New Orleans class arrived (one group came in early and chose to go into New Orleans for the evening — what a surprise) ad we set up at a large house near the Katrina Relief HQ. We’re expecting the other three UNH-ABC groups today — Sunday.

We’re getting ready to head into the city for the gathering of the Uptown Mardi Gras Indians. Before we head uptown, we’re going to visit the Lower Ninth Ward. By tradition, the Indians hold this event (known by others as “Super Sunday”) on the Sunday closest to St. Joseph’s Day and a little thing like Palm Sunday is not going to get in their way. Given that this is our only day off, the groups have chosen to stay in the city all day and forgo dinner here at the camp. Although I understand food here is very good, I can’t see that if disagree with their decision.